


Paging Healer Malfoy

by millijayne13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Good Draco Malfoy, Healer Draco Malfoy, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millijayne13/pseuds/millijayne13
Summary: For the last eight years, Draco Malfoy has worked tirelessly as a Healer. He’s dedicated to his work; he adores his work. There’s never a boring day in the emergency room at St. Mungo’s. Follow Draco through the ins and outs of his career as he trains new Healers, solves the oddest cases, and tries to navigate his personal life.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> MY NEW SERIES!! This is heavily inspired by the 90s medical drama, ER - I love that show, I live for that show, I'm getting a tattoo inspired by the show. However, all of medical knowledge comes from ER so if there are any mistakes through the series, I can only apologise. 
> 
> This was originally posted on my Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> I would love feedback on this! Feedback has been really positive on Tumblr so I'm hoping it will do well on here too!

From being a young child, Draco Malfoy knew that he was not going to follow in the footsteps of his father and his father before him by working for the Ministry of Magic in a random offshoot department.

No. Upon his sixteenth birthday, Draco had announced to his family – both immediate and extended – that he intended on becoming a Healer.

The questions started after that, and so did the accusations and protests (though those were mainly from his paternal grandfather).

Did he have a specialty in mind? His mother asked.

Did he understand the workload he was setting himself up for? Lucius questioned.

Did he not want a personal life? A wife? Children? His grandmother begged.

Did he truly know what he was sacrificing? Narcissa brought up; already worried about the workload and what Draco would have to give up.

Draco never second-guessed himself though. With shining references from both Professors McGonagall and Slughorn, a fresh-faced, eighteen year old Draco Malfoy enrolled on the much sought after and competitive training programme offered by St. Mungo’s.

Emergency Medicine.

On his very first day, he had been warned. He had been told exactly how it would be and what would be expected of him. He had been regaled with tales of students who had dropped out after two weeks; claiming the stress and workload being too much. He had been cautioned that there would be days where it would feel like there was to be no end to the amount of cases rushing through the door.

However, Draco had not been told about the rush of adrenaline that would surge through his body when a trauma came in or the joy that flooded his veins when he was able to grant good news to worried parents.

The moment he landed in bed after his first shift, Draco knew that Emergency Medicine was for him. He threw himself into his work; reading the journals and the textbooks, putting himself forward for the cases nobody wanted, volunteering to work that extra shift, and most importantly, creating positive relationships with the nurses.

Eight years and one medical qualification later, Draco still feels the rush of adrenaline and the gratification at being able to heal those when they’re at their lowest.

Eight years later, Draco walks through the doors to St. Mungo’s with the overwhelming sense of coming home.


	2. Chapter One - 'You Set The Tone'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco meets the new trainees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One of my new series!!
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, mutual pining, mentions of injuries.
> 
> I am ridiculously proud of this series, I have loved writing every single chapter. Any feedback would be massively appreciated, thank you!

To enter the premises of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, one must step through a window display of the redundant department store Purge and Dowse. From the outside, to muggles, the department store looks condemned – frozen in time between the 1950s and 1960s; the garish housecoats that were once popular among all housewives in the country now collecting dust.

Draco Malfoy looks on either side of him; checking for nosy muggles who are desperate for a peek at the magical community. Happy that he isn’t going to be seen, Draco takes a step through the window, entering his place of work for the last eight years.

Almost immediately, he is gathered up in the hustle and bustle of the emergency room. He dodges the rushing nurse; pauses as the porters transport a moaning and groaning patient to their room.

Draco expertly navigates his way to the break room; entering his combination and pulling open his locker. He removes his jacket, replacing it with his personalised lab coat. A recent Christmas gift from his mother when she saw how tattered his last one had become. Seeing ‘Healer’ embroidered by his mother’s expert hand next to his name never failed to bring a smile to his face.

He checks his reflection in the small mirror in the inside of his locker; checking his hair is in place and that he doesn’t look too sleep deprived after working hours over what he should have yesterday. By the time Draco returned to his flat, he fell into bed and slept – food and a shower being the furthest thing from his mind.

Draco shakes out his limbs; pushing the lingering tiredness from his bones and out of his body. He spies the pot of freshly made coffee and pours himself a large cup; humming happily at the bitter taste. He smiles as he feels the caffeine take hold of his system; the addiction having started midway through his first year of training. Draco happily fuels the addiction through multiple cups of coffee.

He holds the mug tightly as he make his way from the break room to the admit desk where he sees the Head Nurse, Vera, waiting for him with her hands on her hips. For not the first time today, Draco represses a long sigh.

“Vera, Vera, Vera, how are we this fine day?” He greets with a smile.

Vera pulls Draco to one side, “We have new students starting today.”

Draco takes a drink of his coffee, “I’m well aware.”

Vera rolls her eyes; over the years, she has gotten used to Draco’s personality over the years, happy to let his words wash over her, “What I mean to say is they’re already here and they’re waiting for a tour.”

“How long have they been waiting?” Draco asks.

“Over an hour,” Vera comments lightly; shuffling some papers.

“An hour?” Draco shouts, alarmed, “Why wasn’t I told when I got here?”

“Oh so it’s expected of me to drop everything I’m doing to follow you around with your to-do list?”

Draco sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Of course not, I’m sorry. You’re right. Just, point me in their direction please?”

“They’re in chairs; let’s try not to give them too much to do on their first day.”

Draco crosses a finger over his heart, “They are not to take on a major patient or be in any traumas today.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I don’t want a repeat of last year.”

Draco has the decency to flush, “I didn’t know that he was going to faint that quickly, and I didn’t know he was going to land on you.”

Vera shrugs, “Regardless. I do not want a repeat.”

Draco salutes the elderly Head Nurse, “Yes, ma’am.”

She laughs as she pushes him towards chairs. Draco grabs the clipboard of information before striding over to where the future of magical medicine awaits.

They sit huddled together; pristine lab coats and fresh faces. The four of them look up as Draco approaches. One of them, a blonde-haired woman, asks, “Are you Healer Malfoy?”

“I am. I’m sorry for the lateness , but as you can probably tell, things don’t run on a strict schedule here.”

The four of them nod their heads. The blonde speaks up again, “We understand.”

Draco smiles at her gratefully. He meets their eyes separately, “Shall we begin the tour?”

\------

“This is the admit desk. Here you will find all cases waiting to be seen and waiting to be discharged. You grab a chart, call out their name and then begin to treat your patient. When finished, you place your chart in the discharged box and then rub their name off the board. That way, we know who has been treated and who hasn’t. The admit desk is also where traumas come in; we get an alert on the screen and then we start to prepare.”

Draco breaks off, smiling at the already overwhelmed trainees, “Don’t worry. With any luck, no traumas should come in today.”

The trainees all seem to sag in relief at the same time. Draco represses a laugh as he directs the small group to the trauma rooms, “Should a trauma come in however, this is where we initially treat them. Here, the nurses and the Healers work in harmony. You’re going to need the nurses more than you know so my first piece of advice to you all is,” He pauses, making eye contact with each trainee, “Do not piss them off. The nurses are the ones that keep this place running. Make sure you’re on good terms with them or they’ll make your placement here a living hell.”

The trainees gulp at the idea of getting on the bad side of any of the nurses, and rightfully so. Only once in Draco’s career has he been on the wrong side of Vera – something he is not wanting to ever happen again.

“Don’t let Healer Malfoy scare you off with all this information,” A familiar voice drawls from behind him.

Draco turns to the sound to find her watching the trainees with an appraising look in her eye. “Everyone, this is Healer (Y/L/N). One of the few attendings we have working here in the emergency room. Ignore everything bad she has to say about me.”

She laughs loudly, clapping her hands in delight, “I would never say anything bad about you Malfoy.”

He snorts, reading over the notes on his clipboard, “I find that very hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” She confirms, “I never have anything bad to say about you; everything I say is the simple truth,” She turns to the trainees with a smile, “At the end of the tour, you’ll find out which attendings have been assigned to you. It’s them that you report to at the beginning and end of every shift but it’s Malfoy that you need should anything go seriously wrong.”

“Thank you for that information,” Draco murmurs.

She smirks at him, “It was my pleasure,” She smiles at the group, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing all of you later.”

The group and Draco remain silent as she leaves; letting her brief drop of information settle over them.

“Who was that?” A voice asks; masked in awe.

“Like I said earlier, that was Healer (Y/L/N). She’s an extremely gifted Healer and the one who works with her will get one of the most thorough educations possible.”

Eagerness falls over the faces of the trainees; each wanting to be the one assigned to Healer (Y/L/N). Draco just about manages to keep himself from rolling his eyes as he presses on with the tour.

He guides them through the exam rooms before showing them the potion lock up that is only accessible by the Head Nurse, Vera.

Draco rounds off the tour back at the admit desk where the trainees now crowd around.

“I realise I’ve kept you here too long and I know you’re all desperate to see patients, however, traumas and major cases are off limits just for today. Today, it will be triage and stitches.”

The trainees groan with disappointment. Draco laughs, “Trust me. You’ll thank me for this.”

None of the trainees look like they believe him. Draco musters up the strict tone he hasn’t used since the last batch of trainees made their way through the emergency room, “One final piece of advice before I let you go see your patients. You set the tone. How you begin this placement is how you will end this placement. I won’t lie to you; it is going to be hard and there is the possibility that you will lose a patient, but out of all your placements, this one is the most rewarding. How you conduct yourself through this will help define you as a Healer, so I’ll repeat myself once again, you set the tone.”

Draco clears his throat, smiling at the small group, “Alright. Enough of the heavy, go grab a chart and start taking some histories. If you need help, ask for it. That’s what we’re here for.”

With a large sigh of relief, the trainees make their way behind the admit desk, looking for the charts with minor injuries in which they can begin to take histories.

Draco both simultaneously loves and hates this time of the year. He loves getting to meet the new trainees; getting to watch them grow as a Healer. However, he hates this time of year because of the extra paperwork that comes with taking on the job as trainer. Draco is happy to dedicate as much of his free time to the hospital; more than willing to stay after a shift to help with overcrowding or a particularly tough case, but he cannot stand the paperwork side of the job.

Training new Healers always brings with it extra charts that need to be co-signed as well as Healer reviews that take up his entire weekend if he isn’t down to work. He has the added bonus of being able to hand trainee Healers off to other attendings, but he still has to sign off on their reviews.

Draco runs a hand down his face; lack of sleep starting to catch up to him already. Repressing a yawn, he makes his way back to the admit desk where he finds (Y/N) watching the new trainees with an odd smile on her face.

“Which one is mine?” She asks; eyes still on the trainees.

Draco scoffs, “Don’t sound too possessive now. Which one would you like?”

She purses her lips, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “I’m not sure. It looks like we have a capable bunch this year.”

Draco turns to watch the trainees call for their patients; each one leading them away, asking the desk clerk for empty exam rooms with confidence in their voice.

“It seems like we do,” He ponders.

“I want that one,” She announces; pointing towards the tallest in the group. A young brunette man who’s own tailored lab coat screams wealth.

Draco looks down at his clipboard; flipping through his information until he finds the right page, “That’s James Shannon. Hufflepuff at Hogwarts; came recommended by Neville Longbottom after noticing his aptitude in Herbology then spent a couple of years abroad volunteering in the Healer camps in Romania on the exterior of the dragon enclosures.”

She pushes herself off the counter, “Well if Neville recommended him, he must be talented.”

Draco watches as (Y/N) makes her way over to James; he greets her with a warm smile, and they shake hands. Together, they take James’ patient to exam room three. (Y/N) flashes a smile at Draco as she passes, and Draco does his best to swallow the jealousy rising in his gut.

\---------

Their relationship was an odd one. It hadn’t been defined, but they couldn’t ignore the mutual attraction. It hadn’t been defined, but they were both going to ignore the drunken kiss under the mistletoe at last year’s Christmas party. It hadn’t been defined, but they were both turning down blind date offers from Lydia who swore she knew the perfect person for each of them.

It hadn’t been defined, but Draco still felt the lingering jealousy as he flops backwards onto the couch in the break room and pulls the pile of unfinished charts towards him.

He gets a brief ten minutes to himself where he can finish his now cold coffee in peace before he’s called back out to the emergency room; needing to help with a particularly upset child.

Draco grabs the stool from the corner of the exam room and sits down in front of the child; fat tears rolling down his face as he cradles his left arm to his chest.

“Can you tell me your name?” Draco asks gently.

The young boy sniffles before whisperings, “Harry.”

Draco’s eyes widen in surprise, “Harry? I happen to know a Harry too.”

“You do?” Little Harry asks; tears slowing but his arm still cradled to his chest.

Draco nods animatedly, “I do. And he’s a very brave man like all Harry’s are. Are you brave, Harry?”

“The bravest,” Harry states; voice firm and unwavering.

Draco lets out a small laugh, “Can I have a look at your arm then? We need to get you back out being brave, don’t we?”

Harry holds out his left arm for Draco to take a look at. With a careful hand, Draco’s fingers make quick work of examining the boy’s wrist, taking note of his wince when he reaches his wrist, “I think it’s broken,” Draco comments, “What happened, Harry?”

Harry’s mum runs a hand through her son’s hair, “He’s into muggle superheroes right now. He jumped off his bunkbed trying to fly like Superman.”

Draco barks out a laugh; apologising to the mother of the startle, “Did you manage to fly, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head, tears fresh in his eyes with the disappointment of not being able to fly, “I landed with a bump.”

“I bet you did, but we’re going to get you all fixed up.”

Draco turns to the nurse standing next to him, “Let’s get an x-ray series of his left arm before we try to mend the bone. I want to check that there’s no other damage.”

The nurses nods at Draco and sends a comforting smile to Harry and his mother before going to ring radiology.

Draco rifles around in his pocket; smiling when his fingers land on what he’s searching for. He pulls out a chupa-chup lollypop, watching how Harry’s eyes light up at the sight of it. Draco hands it to the boy’s mother who takes it from him with a small thanks. “Now Harry, you don’t get the lollipop until you’re completely healed. Right now,” Draco says, picking Harry up off the bed and placing him on the floor, “You’re going to get an x-ray and I need you to think really hard about the colour bandages you want when you come back here, can you do that for me?”

Harry nods; his arm back to being cradled into his chest. He looks up to his mother and holds a hand out to her, “Mum, we need to go, I need to think of colours!”

His mother laughs as she lets herself be led away, “Thank you, Healer Malfoy,” she calls as she follows the signs to x-ray.

Draco sits down behind the admit desk; adding his notes to the chart before placing it to one side. Checking the clock, Draco finds that he’s three hours into his shift with nine left to go.

It’s the smell of her perfume that alerts Draco to her presence; the well-known scent of lilies and citrus washing over him as she sits down next to him. Draco doesn’t look up from his chart work; still feeling the keen sting of jealousy which in turn makes him feel foolish – nothing had happened between them, and nothing could happen between her and her student so he couldn’t claim any reasoning for the pit in his stomach.

“Why the long face?” She asks.

Draco still doesn’t look up from his charts, “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

She snorts, “Like I’m going to believe that.”

Draco sighs, standing, “I’ve got patients to see.”

She frowns at his rebuff; watching him walk away, “Coffee later?”

Draco waves a hand in confirmation; his mind already in the café with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> I am ridiculously proud of this series, I have loved writing every single chapter. Any feedback would be massively appreciated, thank you!


	3. Chapter Two: The Improper Use of Magical Materials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee equals venting as well as inquisitions over personal lives. Interesting patients have their way of falling into Draco's lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> WARNINGS: mentions of hospitals, mentions of illnesses and procedures, mutual pining, mentions of coffee and food, swearing, yearning, interesting medical cases.
> 
> Feedback is so appreciated! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment and a kudos!!

By the time Draco has a long enough lull in patients, it’s been a couple of hours and he’s more than ready for a coffee.

The tradition of coffee with her had started through their training; it was how they vented to each other after a particularly long shift that had either been difficult or slow. It was how over the course of their training; their friendship had formed. It was over the coffees and the vents that Draco slowly realised his feelings for her were far from platonic.

(Y/N) stands at the admit desk, chatting to one of the longest working nurses at St. Mungo’s, Lydia. Lydia had seen it all; there was very little that could shock her. Draco thinks out of his eight years at St. Mungo’s, he had only ever seen Lydia speechless from shock twice. Both of those cases had not had positive outcomes.

(Y/N) greets Draco with a smile that almost knocks him breathless. He slots his chart into the discharged box and cracks his knuckles; he grins at (Y/N)’s displeased face, knowing that that particular habit gets on her nerves.

“Are you free now?” She asks; an eyebrow raised as if she’s expecting another rebuff.

Draco nods, “Coffee?”

(Y/N) smiles broadly; another smile to leave him breathless and hopelessly yearning for her as she murmurs her goodbyes to Lydia.

The café for St. Mungo’s is on the very top floor, and Draco thanks every god and deity out there that the hospital board had seen fit to install a lift instead of relying on the stairs. It was useful for practical reasons too; especially transporting patients to different floors and such alongside Draco’s continued avoidance of physical exercise.

It wasn’t an overly large café, but it catered for the Healers and nurses on every floor as well as the steady stream of patients and their families that came through the doors. It constantly smelt like coffee beans; the scent settling within Draco’s bones as he walks to the till with (Y/N) by his side.

Happy to see their usual table by the furthest window empty, Draco heads over there with their tray of freshly brewed coffee. They sit across from each other and share a tired smile; they were coming up to halfway through their shift now. They both loved their job; they couldn’t imagine working anywhere else as anything else but even they couldn’t help but countdown the minutes until they could clock off and go home to their showers and their beds.

Adding a splash of milk to her coffee, (Y/N) asks, “What do you think of the new trainees?”

Draco nods, “I think they’re going to be better than last year for definite.”

(Y/N) nods her head in agreement. Draco grabs a sugar packet from the centre of the table, “What do you think of your student?”

She rolls her eyes fondly, “He’s rich, that’s for sure. The only other person I’ve ever seen with a tailored lab coat is you.”

Draco huffs; tugging at the collar of his lab coat, “It was a gift, thank you very much.”

She laughs, “And you look very dashing.”

Draco turns her nose up at her, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

(Y/N)’s eyes sparkle with mirth over the rim of her coffee cup; the cup barely concealing the smile on her face. Draco returns the grin in earnest; never truly able to stay mad at her or hold a grudge against for too long.

“How have you been?” She asks; light concern lacing her voice.

“I’ve been okay,” Draco answers; expecting the worry she always has for him. He had been diagnosed with insomnia after the second wizarding war. It came in waves; he could have weeks, even months, where he slept fine, but then he would have periods where sleep was a distant memory.

“Have you been sleeping better? I can always prescribe you something if you need it.”

Draco waves away her offer, “I don’t need medicine to help me sleep.”

“Draco, you have insomnia. You, yourself, have admitted that traditional remedies aren’t helping.”

“(Y/N), I’m fine,” He reaches out for her hand; she lets him take it, “I’m fine. I’m sleeping better, I promise.”

She bites her lip; looking like she so desperately wants to believe him. For a second, Draco thinks she’s going to argue but at the last moment she decides against it. Instead, whispering what she wanted to say at the start of their conversation, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“We see each other nearly every day,” Draco argues.

“We’re so busy, Draco, we don’t talk like we used to.”

Draco sighs; knowing how right she is. If they found themselves on nights together, they would spend most of that shift together – especially if it was a quiet one. They would talk aimlessly about whatever came to their minds; the job, their families, their love life.

To Draco, it felt like his feelings for her were almost inevitable. The longer he spent with her; the longer he thought of her. Their fumble at the Christmas party last year had driven a wedge between them; neither ready to talk about what happened for the fear of losing their crutch. They so heavily relied on the other in terms of emotional release from their jobs; if things went south, what would they do?

Catching sight of the clock, (Y/N) sighs, realising that their conversation was over, “I need to go chase up some labs. As smart as my trainee he is, he’s useless at keeping on top of things.”

She stands; finishing the final few sips of her coffee. Her hand finds its way to Draco’s shoulder where it squeezes it once in goodbye, “I’ll find you at the end of your shift, we can get the tube together.”

He smiles at her, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And he wouldn’t.

\------

The first week with the new trainees goes swimmingly. Draco cannot help but compare this year to last year where last year he had to dismiss one Healer immediately based on their bed manner with patients; inappropriate comments flying freely.

The second week with the new trainees gives Draco a breather from needing to watch over them constantly. He starts to spend less time flitting between their patients and more time taking on his own cases whilst still supervising the trainees and their assigned attendings.

As the trainees find their feet, Draco finds it easier to fall back into his routine from before they arrived. Working in Emergency Medicine meant that there was very little leeway for a strict routine, but there was always a lull in the early afternoon that allowed Draco to sneak upstairs to the café and grab some lunch without being pulled in for consultation after consultation.

However, Draco feels that something is off within his very bones. As he lines up to pay for his food and drink, he feels suspicious. As he sits down at the table he usually shares with (Y/N) - admitting to himself that he does miss her presence when he’s eating alone – he feels as if he needs to rush whatever he’s about to eat.

Eight years as a Healer has taught Draco to trust that gut instinct; to follow it to very end to where it leads.

The familiar static of the tannoy system precedes the announcement of his name, “Healer Malfoy to Trauma Two. Healer Malfoy to Trauma Two.”

Draco looks down at his meal sadly; briefly wondering whether the patient would protest to him eating through his trauma. He throws out the food as he rushes from the café, stethoscope clinking around his neck as he amps up his brisk walk to a flat out run.

As he runs to the trauma room, Draco has no idea what awaits him when he arrives in the emergency room. He has no clue as to his patient; their age, gender, ethnicity. As of right now, he couldn’t care – all he needs to know is that there is someone who needs his help.

The patient has already been lifted onto the bed when Draco arrives. Studiously ignoring his growling stomach, he looks to Vera, “What do we have?”

“27 year old Rowan Talbott; injured in a duel between friends. BP and oxygen all fine though his pulse is a little fast.”

Rowan Talbott writhes on the bed in pain, gasping, “It hurts so much.”

“Where does it hurt, Mr. Talbott?” Draco questions; standing over the patient.

“My side! It feels like its burning.”

Draco makes eye contact with the nurse who helps to roll the young man onto his other side. With deft, experienced fingers, Draco examines the patient.

“Mr. Talbott,” Draco calls out over the patients cries, “Can you tell me which spell you were hit with?”

“Entrail-Expelling, I’m sure of it.”

Draco sighs; taking a step back and removing his gloves, “I can assure, Mr. Talbott, you were not hit with the entrail-expelling spell.”

“How do you know?” He demands; face cross.

“For one thing, Mr. Talbott, your entrails are still very much inside of your body. And another, it looks like you were instead hit with the stinging hex which has caused the burning,” Draco looks towards Vera, “Perform the counter-jinx and let him sleep it off?”

Vera nods; her face amused at the sound of disappointment in Draco’s voice.

He tears off the trauma gown; throwing it in the disposal bin. He looks towards the patient who slowly sits up in bed; his face aflame with embarrassment, “So I’m not dying?”

Draco shakes his head, “Not dying.”

Rowan Talbott sags in relief as Vera performs the counter-jinx.

“Rest now, Mr. Talbott, I’ll check on you in an hour or so.”

Rowan Talbott doesn’t reply; his snores fill the room as the porters come to move him to an empty exam room.

Both Draco and Vera chuckle as they leave the room. They return to the admit desk where Draco places his chart on the side.

“There never is a dull day, is there Vera?”

Vera laughs, “The day it is dull here, Draco, is the day I leave.”

“Merlin let’s hope that never happens there. How would we run without you, Vera?”

“Draco Malfoy, you are a flatterer.”

Draco laughs, “I’m going out to grab some lunch. I’m sure there’s a muggle café down the road. I won’t be long.”

Vera nods; waving him off as she’s pulled into another case by another Healer.

Before he can be dragged anywhere, Draco rushes to the break room. There, he grabs his jacket – replacing his lab coat with it and then makes his way to the exit. Through it all, his stomach has been growling like a wild animal; the café down the road would still be open, Draco thinks gratefully as he inhales the crisp autumn air.

At the café, Draco orders a sandwich and a coffee to go. All the while knowing that he would have to eat it on the way back to the hospital should another trauma come in or that he’s needed by someone.

By the time Draco arrives back at the break room; he’s eaten half his sandwich and finished his coffee. Munching on the other half, he doesn’t hesitate to pour another cup of coffee and settle on the break room couch.

A few years back, before Draco had started his training, the emergency room staff were given a television by a patient who was grateful for the saving of his life. After much attempting to get it working in a hospital that was, back then, mostly magical, the TV had become a hit with the nurses. However, no-one dared to switch the channel should something happen that they couldn’t fix, so it played a constant loop of the muggle news.

It’s this that Draco watches as he finishes the last crumbs of his sandwich and the dregs of his coffee. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table and lets himself have a few minutes to himself with his eyes closed; letting the stress of the last few weeks leave his body.

All too soon, however, the usual guilt settles over Draco. In his early days as a trainee, Draco found it exceptionally hard to take for himself. He always had to be helping; he always had to be working. He simply couldn’t sit still. Draco thinks it stems from his family’s involvement in the second wizarding war where they had left the Battle of Hogwarts without sticking around to make sure that the survivors were well cared for.

It’s that thought that has Draco hauling himself off the couch and back into the fray.

“Janice – lovely, lovely, Janice. What do we have free?” Draco asks; always ready to compliment the nurses.

Janice laughs, “Malfoy, you are a flirt,” She hands him a chart, “23 year old female with stomach pain.”

Draco grins at Janice; happily taking the chart from her hands. He knocks on the door to exam room one before entering. He smiles welcomingly at the patient, “Miss Collins, I understand you’re having some stomach pain.”

Miss Collins nods her head, “For the last few days now.”

Draco makes some notes on her chart before putting on some latex gloves. He points to her stomach and asks, “Do you mind?”

Miss Collins shakes her head and lifts her shirt to reveal her stomach, “I don’t mind.”

As Draco examines her; he asks her routine questions that Nurse Marie lists the answers of on her chart. “And there’s no chance you could be pregnant?” He asks; broaching the subject carefully.

She shakes her head, “I got my period last week.”

Draco nods; continuing his examination of her stomach, feeling some tenderness which understandably is causing some discomfort and pain. Draco removes his gloves and thinks through the possible causes of this pain. He smiles down at Miss Collins before addressing Nurse Marie, “Let’s get a blood test and give her anti-nausea potion, thank you. We’ll monitor you over the next couple of hours to see if things get better or worse. How does that sound?”

Miss Collins opens her mouth to reply but she’s cut off by a timid voice asking, “Healer Malfoy?”

Draco turns from his examination of Miss Collins to find a trainee stood behind him, “How can I help, Healer Kinghorn?”

Matthew Kinghorn flounders for a moment; trying to find the words to explain his predicament to his superior. Draco frowns at the trainee, “What’s wrong?”

“There’s something you need to see.”

“Is it urgent?”

Matthew nods, “I’d say so.”

“Is the patient dying?”

“No, but-”

Draco cuts him off impatiently, “Then are you able to handle it?”

Matthew huffs, “With all due respect sir, you need to see this. I don’t want to be the one to pull it out.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrow, “Pull what out?”

\-----------

“That is a wand,” Draco states; staring at the x-ray.

Matthew nods wildly; humming his affirmation.

“The patient,” Draco starts, “Has a wand in their rectum.”

“Do you see why I pulled you away?” Matthew asks, “It looks to be 10 inches.”

Draco can’t help the snort that leaves him though he knows he should act more professionally around a trainee. He holds a hand to his mouth as the other points to the image on the lightbox, “Why?”

Matthew shrugs, “The patient wouldn’t say.”

Draco sighs, “Well they’re at risk for a perforation. What room are they in?”

“Exam room three,” Matthew answers.

Draco pulls the x-ray from the lightbox; stuffing it in a file before walking to exam room three. Entering the room – Matthew close behind – Draco finds the patient lying on his front with his knees tucked up to his chest.

“Mr,” Draco pauses; holding his hand out for the chart from Matthew, “Winters, I’m Healer Malfoy. Would you care to tell me what’s happened?”

Mr. Winters groans; his voice full of pain and embarrassment as he replies, “My wand is stuck.”

Draco slips on some gloves before approaching Mr. Winters, “Sir, you know that that isn’t the proper use of your wand.”

“I know that.”

“I’m glad you’re aware.”

Mr. Winters sighs, “I just had an itch that I couldn’t get, and I just looked at my wand and before I thought it through, I was doing it.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Mr. Winters,” Draco murmurs, “I’m just here to help extract your wand, but we need to be careful so please remain as still as possible.”

Mr. Winters nods; trying to relax as much as he can and remain as still as possible. Draco looks to Matthew who remains by the door; watching the scene with wide eyes, “Healer Kinghorn, will you please fetch some lubricant and any tweezers you can find.”

“You’re going to pull it out?!” Mr. Winters cries.

Draco walks around the bed, removing his gloves, and bends so he’s eye level with Mr. Winters, “I think it’s our first option. You lost hold as you were inserting it, that’s correct?”

Mr. Winters nods, so Draco continues, “So I’m going to use the tweezers to try and grab hold of the end of your wand. Should I meet any resistance, however, I am going to have to call a surgeon.”

“I could need surgery?” Mr. Winters shouts.

Draco nods, “It’s a possibility. There is a slight chance of perforation so any resistance, it’s a surgeon.”

Matthew comes bustling back into the exam room carrying everything Draco asked for including a pain potion and relaxation potion. He lays it all out on a tray before wheeling it to the end of Mr. Winters bed.

“Thank you, Healer Kinghorn,” Draco murmurs before turning back to Mr. Winters, “I’m going to give you a pain potion, so you won’t feel a thing, is that okay?”

Mr. Winters nods, holding out a hand for the bottle. Draco pours the right amount into a small cup before handing it to the patient; watching him finish it all before making his way to end of the bed.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Winters?” Draco calls; slipping on some fresh latex gloves.

“Ready,” He answers. Draco nods despite tef cat that the patient can’t see him.

Draco turns to Matthew; his hand out expectantly for the lubricant and the tweezers. Together, they manage to dislodge the item from Mr. Winters; his wand offering little trouble at all. Matthew watches the procedure wide-eyed and in awe as Draco manages to extract Mr. Winters wand. 

He bags Mr. Winters wand as Matthew helps him back onto his side; reminding him that most likely isn’t quite ready to sit on him bum any time soon.

Mr. Winters has tears in his eyes as he thanks both Draco and Matthew. They wave off his thanks before leaving him to sleep off the remaining pain potion in his system; once he wakes he’ll be discharged and given a leaflet on appropriate wand use.

Draco co-signs Matthew’s chart before handing it back to the redheaded trainee. “You did well,” Draco compliments with a smile.

Matthew beams, “Really?”

Draco nods, “You went beyond what I asked you to do and made sure the patient was comfortable. You also recognised that you were out of your depth and you needed help. Past trainees haven’t thought of that; they would go straight in with the procedure and make a mistake. Well done, Matthew.”

Matthew nods; rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as his skin warms with the kind words from Draco. “Thank you, Healer Malfoy,” He replies earnestly.

Draco claps Matthew on the shoulder, “Go get some lunch, Matthew. You don’t know when you’ll be able to eat again.”

Matthew smiles at Draco again before leaving; rushing for the lift to head up to the café.

Draco shakes his head at the eagerness displayed by his trainee, but also pride in the fact that he did think before acting which is vitally important in a job like this. It requires you to think fast and act fast; it seems that Matthew had the talent for both. Draco couldn’t help but wonder how he would be like in a major trauma situation.

Returning to the admit desk, Draco finds that all patients are accounted for and for the first time in a while, he has no immediate need to see a patient – still waiting on test results for them all. He removes his stethoscope from his shoulders as he enters the break room; the television still playing its circuit of the daily muggle news.

(Y/N) sits at the small round table in the middle of the room; her eyes focused on the small screen. The volume always remains low; never playing loud enough for anyone to hear the words leaving the news anchors mouth. Instead, they rely on the red banner travelling across the bottom of the screen from right to left where it announces the breaking news.

“Anything changed since an hour ago?” Draco asks; heading straight for the coffee pot only to find that its empty. He pulls the coffee grounds down from the cupboard and begins to make a fresh pot.

“I don’t think so,” (Y/N) answers, “A celebrity couple is getting divorced; a royal is having a baby, and there’s a debate in the muggle parliament today.”

Draco leans against the counter; waiting for the coffee to brew. He nods, “Nothing new then.”

“I heard about your… impalement,” (Y/N) comments; turning her attention from the television screen to Draco.

“How?”

(Y/N) raises an eyebrow at him, “Lydia.”

“Of course,” Draco rolls his eyes, “I can’t say it wasn’t interesting.”

She snorts, “You always get the interesting ones.”

“(Y/N), you are an attending in emergency trauma surgery. All of your cases are interesting.”

(Y/N) huffs, “But I haven’t seen an impalement in so long!”

“It was barely even an impalement. The patient had an itch he couldn’t reach, that’s all.”

(Y/N) is silent for a minute before bursting into giggles.

“Act professional, (Y/N),” Draco chides but he cannot help the smile at that spreads across his face at the sound of her laughter. Soon enough, he finds himself chuckling along with her; their laughter providing the chorus for the chaos of the emergency room.

(Y/N) wipes her eyes with her sleeve after she finishes laughing, “It’s like what Healer Dorian used to say before she retired.”

“What?”

“If you don’t laugh, it’ll kill you.”

Draco snorts, “There’s some truth to that, but I don’t think Mr. Winters was laughing.”

(Y/N) shakes her head, “I don’t think he will be. I think he’ll choose muggle medicine over ours now to avoid us all.”

He hums, “Most likely, but if he needs us that badly, he’ll come back.”

(Y/N) doesn’t reply; she just shakes her head fondly, hair slipping from its ponytail.

“What shift are you down for next week?” He asks.

She grins at him; her eyes crinkling in the corners, “Why? Do you miss me when I’m not with you?”

He places a hand on his heart and stretches the other out; mimicking a Shakespearian pose, “Dear (Y/N), my heart yearns for you all the time, but it misses you more in your absence. Pray, tell me your shift pattern next week so I know whether to cry tears of happiness or sadness.”

A ball of paper hits his face. Her laughter fills the room, “You’re such an arse, Draco.”

He grins toothily, “And yet you’re friends with me.”

She glares at him playfully, “I’m regretting that decision past me made.”

“I don’t believe you for a second.”

She rolls her eyes, “I’m on nights next week.”

Draco pouts; playing the overdramatic lovestruck fool he is, “But when will I see you?”

“When I’m leaving… like now,” She stands from her chair; grabbing her drink and her unfinished charts.

Draco swivels in his chair; watching her leave the break room with his feelings all in disarray as to whether they’re finally going to confront of what is so clearly in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Chapter Three is on its way!
> 
> Feedback is so appreciated! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment and a kudos!!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


	4. Chapter Three: How To Save A Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise Draco made to himself when he first became a Healer is broken - smashed to pieces in front of him, and he doesn't think he can fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> WARNINGS: angst, death, grief, a large time skip - months, arguments, feelings, crying
> 
> Feedback really is appreciated so please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!!

January gets off to an interesting start. It always does when Draco works the New Year’s shift; drunk witches and wizards entering the emergency room with alcohol poisoning or injuries they have no recollection of getting. (Y/N) had covered Christmas Day so he could spend it with his family, as per demanded by Narcissa, but he had covered Boxing Day and New Year’s to repay for that favour. He doesn’t mind it either; he would rather be working than sitting in his empty flat with nothing but his insomnia to keep him company.

Draco has always liked January; the idea of new beginnings sits with him, offering him the opportunity to start again from scratch and build himself up.

His New Year’s Resolution for this year is for him to finally be honest with (Y/N) about his feelings.

\-------

January always brings with it the coldest weather despite the knowledge that spring is just around the corner. It brings with it red noses, warm scarves, and dragon’s breath.

He stands with Vera at the admit desk; going through their latest stock intake and what they would need to order more of if the flu season should continue well into February.

“Is that my favourite Healer?” A feminine voice sings out from behind them.

Draco spins around; a smile already crossing his face, “Violet! What are you doing here? Is isn’t a dialysis day?”

She shakes her head; holding up the pager she has carried with her since she was nineteen years of age, “I was sitting down to breakfast and this went off.”

Draco’s eyes grow wide, “It went off?”

Violet nods rapidly, “It went off, so I pushed my breakfast away, grabbed my suitcase and rang Jonathan from the tube.”

Draco claps his hands together in delight, “That’s great news. Did they say you were to get prepped down here?”

She nods, “A Dean Thomas rang me as I was on my way here. Told me to get the initial tests done here and then he’ll come fetch me when the kidney has arrived.”

Draco makes his way around the desk; holding out a hand for her to shake, “I’m so happy for you, Violet.”

“Thank you, Draco.”

He leads Violet into an empty exam room; making sure that there would be no-one to bother her as she waits for the green light to be taken upstairs.

“How are you feeling?” Draco asks quietly; calculating Violet’s blood pressure.

Violet releases a long sigh of relief, “Happy. Scared. Relieved. Nervous.”

Draco laughs, “That’s a lot for one person to be feeling.”

She smiles; eyes shining with unshed tears, “We’ve just been waiting for so long.”

And she has. Draco had treated her all those years ago when she was rushed in by her then-boyfriend Jonathan. Violet had been feeling ill for over a month; it had started with shortness of breath, and then she started losing weight but retaining water in her ankles and feet leaving them swollen as well as complaining about blood in her urine.

Having had enough, Jonathan rushed her to St. Mungo’s where Draco saw her and diagnosed her with kidney failure. She hadn’t even known she had kidney disease; feeling well enough to continue her active lifestyle and her work as a teacher.

From there, Draco had placed her on the transplant list – desperate for a match for a nineteen year old who still had her whole life to live. She hadn’t been out of Hogwarts a year; still very much a Ravenclaw through and through. After that, Draco had her assigned to dialysis which was where he saw her so often that a friendship struck up between him, her and Jonathan.

Draco finishes his examination of Violet; sending off samples of her blood to the lab to be checked for anything he hadn’t picked up. He smiles down at her, “I think you’re getting a new kidney today.”

The smile that breaks out across Violet’s face is blinding; pure happiness personified as if the very sun was sitting in this very exam room.

“Have you told Jonathan?”

Violet nods; her curls bouncing with the movement of her head, “He’s on his way. I think he’s more excited than I am.”

Draco laughs, “I can believe it. Alright, I’ll let you get settled whilst I go ring surgery and see how long it’s going to take.”

Violet smiles, and Draco briefly wonders whether her cheeks already hurt from the happiness shown on her face. “I’ll be back to see you soon,” He says as goodbye; heading straight for the nearest phone to pester Dean Thomas.

(Y/N) joins him at the admit desk a short while after Draco has left Violet.

“Will Dean be coming down to get her himself?,” A pause, “Thank you, Shirley,” Draco answers, putting down the phone.

“I see Violet is finally getting her transplant.”

Draco smiles; eyes flashing towards Violet in exam room four, “She’s been on the waiting list for over three years.”

“You’re happy for her?”

“I was the one to diagnose the kidney failure. She has been through numerous false alarms; the false hope of getting a kidney to find out its been donated elsewhere. I have sat with her through her dialysis when her fiancée couldn’t make it because of work. Yes, you could say I am happy for her.”

“You seem to have struck up quite a friendship,” She comments lightly; reading over an old chart.

Draco rolls his eyes, “It’s hard not when I see her so often and I’m her primary physician.”

(Y/N) sighs; not missing the undercurrent of warning in Draco’s tone, “Well I wish her all the best.”

\---------

Dean Thomas had trained with Draco, but rather than continuing in the emergency room, Dean had chosen to go into surgery. He had done well for himself; he had quickly risen through the ranks on the surgical floor, having a knack for putting people back together again.

Arriving in the emergency room, Dean greets Draco with a large smile and a handshake, “It’s been too long, Malfoy. When are you next coming out with the lads?”

Draco laughs, “When Weasley can admit he can’t handle his firewhisky.”

“So never then?”

Both men laugh. Thinking back to the same night where Ron had gotten so drunk on the stuff that he performed his and Hermione’s song outside their window at nearing three in the morning. Other than disturbing the nightlife of urban London, Ron had woken up a very sleep-deprived Hermione.

Dean shakes his head; still chuckling, “How’s our patient?”

Draco smiles, “Brilliant. The perfect candidate; all her tests came back with no signs of trouble.”

Dean rubs his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear. Where is she?”

“Exam room four. I’ll take you there now.”

In the time that Draco has made his phone calls and seen other patients, Violet’s fiancée, Jonathan has arrived with a bouquet of pale pink roses, it seems. He stands upon the entrance of Dean and Draco but does not let his hand leave Violet’s. He smiles at both of them, “Draco, Healer Thomas – this is it, huh?”

Dean nods; smiling, “This is it,” He looks towards Violet, “How are we feeling? Are you ready?”

Violet nods once; firm, decided, “I’m ready.”

\-----

Dean helps the porters move Violet to the surgical floor; Jonathan following with his bouquet of pale pink roses, whispering words of luck quietly. It’s a touching sight to see; the love they feel for each other written so clearly over their faces.

Draco knows (Y/N) joins him to watch them take Violet up; it’s hard to ignore her presence, the usual scent of lilies and citrus wafting over him, sending his heart racing.

“She’ll be okay, Draco,” (Y/N) murmurs; her eyes on the couple waiting to get into the lift.

Draco nods; turning to face (Y/N), “I know she will.”

(Y/N) reaches out to poke his cheek, “Then look like you believe it.”

Draco catches her finger with his hand; holding onto it for a minute, “I do believe it.”

Something passes over (Y/N)’s face that Draco can’t define; he drops her finger, clearing his throat at the strange atmosphere that has settled over them. “How busy are you today?” He asks, in the hopes of dispelling the awkward fog between them.

(Y/N) shakes her head as if coming out of a trance, “Not overly. Four patients so far and a capable trainee not demanding my attention every minute. Why do you ask?”

Draco shrugs, “Wanted to see if you would be free for lunch in an hour or two.”

(Y/N) smiles, “I’ll make time for you, Draco.”

Draco places a hand on his heart, “Then I should be so grateful as to buy the lunch.”

(Y/N) grins wickedly, “If you’re paying then I’m definitely making time.”

Draco gasps and (Y/N) starts to laugh in earnest; covering her mouth as she snorts. She shakes her head, laughing fit subsiding, “Let me know when you’re free and we’ll grab some food.”

He smiles at her, “Sounds like a plan.”

(Y/N) touches his shoulder, her fingers lingering, before leaving; needing to see patients and catch up on charts as well as keeping an eye on her trainee. A simple touch and it sends Draco’s heart rate through the roof; such a gentle touch but one that felt like it held so much promise. It had lingered slightly, and Draco wondered whether that was how lovers touched each other when saying goodbye. Either way, he so desperately wanted to know. He thinks back to his New Year’s Resolution; beginning to think that just maybe it’s time to tell the truth.

Draco shakes his head at the plan starting to form in his head; of questions and answers, of dimly lit restaurants and kisses against front doors. With a yearning filled sigh, he goes in search of a trainee, needing a distraction from his wandering mind.

Jude Prewett had proved herself highly independent within her first week of working in the emergency room; having hailed from a long line of Healers, she understood the role she played, but also lived with a huge weight on her shoulders in trying to fill shoes that had been worn so many times before.

Draco finds her with a patient; gathering their history before asking any further questions for their visiting St. Mungo’s today.

She startles slightly at his presence in the room, but soon settles quickly. “What do we have, Healer Prewett?”

“Jonah Ashford, 67 years old. He complains of shortness of breath upon initial examination.”

Draco nods; happy so far, “What have you gathered from his history?”

Jude raises an eyebrow, but nevertheless, continues, “Mr. Ashford has a history of asthma along with brief spells of dizziness that come on suddenly. These spells tend to last fifteen minutes each time and come and go when they please.”

Draco leans against the wall; happy to let Jude continue, “What are you thinking first?”

“He isn’t having an asthma attack though he does need a refill of his medication which I will give him a prescription for. I am concerned about the dizziness and how often it comes on.”

Draco looks towards the patient, “When was your last dizzy spell, Mr. Ashford?”

Mr. Ashford frowns; thinking back, “Last night.”

Draco nods, “Are you getting enough to eat and drink?”

Mr. Ashford looks down, “I try, but I find it hard to remember. My wife, Lacey, used to cook and clean. I lost her last year, and it’s been hard to find a routine when everything reminds me of her.”

Both Draco and Jude nod understandingly; both sad at Mr. Ashford’s story though it’s something they see often. Widows who simply desire company; who can no longer sit in their empty houses and watch time tick by.

“Have you got this?” Draco asks Jude. She nods; eyebrows furrowed as if to say she had this before he interrupted.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ashford,” Draco hears Jude say, “I won’t be a moment.”

Draco pauses outside the exam room; letting Jude catch-up to him. “Healer Malfoy?” She asks.

“Yes, Jude?”

“Is it just me you’re checking in on?” Jude asks; concern lacing her voice.

Draco shakes his head with a smile, “I check in on everyone. I’m checking on Healer Shannon after this. Don’t worry, Jude. You’re doing well.”

Jude relaxes and smiles; relief now evident in her tone, “Alright. Thanks, Healer Malfoy.”

Draco laughs, “It’s fine, Jude. Go,” He nods towards Mr. Ashford, “Continue with your patient.”

Making his rounds of the floor, Draco is relieved to see that the trainees are more than content to work with supervision from their assigned attendings. No complaints from either parties which makes Draco’s life a little easier when it comes to the reviews in just a couple of weeks.

He starts to collect patients to keep his mind off ringing the surgical floor immediately. He rings once, and they update him – Violet has just gone in, it looks to be going to fine, and then he makes himself wait to ring again.

“Draco,” Her voice sings; pulling him from his daydreaming as he sits at the admit desk.

He checks his watch, then checks the clock hung on the wall, “Is it that time already?”

(Y/N) nods; a large smile on her face, “And I do believe you said you would pay.”

He pats his pocket, checking for his wallet, “I do believe I said that. Come on then, let’s go eat.”

She hooks her arm through his. Draco has to resist the urge to pull her in further; to kiss her senseless. “I’m fancying chips, what about you?” She asks; ripping him from his yearning.

He shrugs, “I’ll have to have a look when we get there.”

She frowns, “Are you still worried?”

Draco shakes his head, “No. I’m not,” Then he smiles, “But I am hungry, so hurry your butt up, will you?”

(Y/N) snorts but fastens her pace, nonetheless.

\--------

After the third time, Draco rang the surgical floor, they refused to accept any calls from him. Instead, ghosting his calls in order to annoy him further. Draco hadn’t worried; not through lunch with (Y/N) and not as he continues to see patients.

Draco can’t help but continue to glance at the clock; it has been well over the allotted time to complete a kidney transplant. Worry now settles deep within Draco’s gut, but he tries to remain positive as he flits about the emergency room; taking on as many cases as possible in order to keep the worry at bay.

It’s when he sees Dean get off the lift that Draco has any idea what’s happened. Dean looks tired and beaten down; as if all the fight has left him through the last few hours. With a nod of his head, Dean gestures to an empty exam room for Draco to join him in.

Taking a deep breath, Draco steels himself for what he’s about to hear. He knew Dean’s tactics from training and from seeing him work on the surgical floor; he would never let anyone else deliver the news of a patient to friends and family.

From the expression on Dean’s face, it doesn’t look to be good news, “Draco, I’m sorry.”

Draco nods; sadness settling like a boulder in his gut, “What happened?”

Dean looks reluctant to say, but he sighs and replies, “Cardiac arrest two hours in. We tried for half an hour to bring her back.”

All his life, Draco had seen signs that witches and wizards were not immortal – he had survived a devastating war; he worked in a profession where death stalked the halls like a hunter finding its prey. And yet, he had hope for Violet. He had hope that the transplant would be a success and she would go on to live a long and healthier life with her fiancée.

In the span of a single surgery; the hope had been crushed by the skeletal hands of the reaper that wanders the halls of the hospital, collecting souls.

Dean claps Draco on the shoulder in what is supposed to be an offer of comfort, but it does little to quash the growing sense of loss Draco feels.

“If you need anything,” Dean starts in kindness before giving up and saying, “I knew you two had a friendship.”

Draco nods silently; watching Dean had for the stairs. Throughout his career, Draco had never let himself get close to a patient. Sure, there were those who he saw regularly. The frequent flyers, the pain potion seekers, Mrs Larkin – a widow who needed company more than she needed medical treatment. However, Violet came in so frequently for dialysis that it felt almost inevitable they would end up on friendly terms.

Draco rubs a hand down his face; feeling almost devastated at this loss of such a young life.

Needing to be alone – if only for a moment – Draco enters the break room, taking calming breaths. He feels ridiculous; letting a patient’s death affect him this much when he had been at the deathbed for so many – young, old, infant.

He’s so caught up in his emotions, he doesn’t hear the door open. Draco startles slightly at the sound of her voice calling his name.

“I heard what happened,” She murmurs comfortingly – her hand outstretched as if to offer support.

Draco clears his throat; dislodging the lump that has taken root there, “Yes. It’s a sad loss.”

“Are _you_ okay though? I know that you two were close.”

Draco looks down to the chart in his hands; a patient still needing to be seen. He smiles humourlessly, “It’s always sad to lose a patient, no matter how long you’ve been doing this.”

(Y/N) frowns, “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

Draco throws his arms wide; emotions bubbling to the surface, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She throws her hands up in surrender. Her voice is laced with frustration as she answers, “Fine. Keep it bottled up.”

(Y/N) slams the door as she leaves the break room; making her anger known. Draco, for a brief moment, loses his temper, sending his fist into the door of his locker. It does a little to curb the wave of grief submerging him, but the wave doesn’t ebb. Draco rests his head against the cool, gunmetal grey door of his locker, taking in deep breaths.

He gives himself a minute.

One minute. That’s all he gets to feel it all; to let the loss consume him. To feel the guilt and the sadness.

The minute passes and Draco stands straight. He pushes his hair back from his face and straightens his lab coat.

Clearing his throat, Draco leaves the break room, needing to continue working.

\-------

It’s hard to miss the pitying look from the nurses as Draco continues to work; as if the entire floor has decided to walk on eggshells around him.

He continues to work because he needs to; he has no grounds to leave work – it wasn’t a family member he had lost; it was a patient. That was how he was rationalising it in his head. It was just that Violet had been his patient for three years; seeing her so frequently.

Draco shakes his head; ridding himself of the dark thoughts that threaten to break through.

He continues to work because that’s who he is. Through Draco’s adolescence, he found himself being defined by what others thought of him and his family. He was bending to a self-fulfilling prophecy that he didn’t want thrust upon him.

Through his first week as a trainee Healer, Draco found himself redefining every aspect of himself. He did not have to present the hard, touch exterior that his family and fellow students expected of him at Hogwarts. Rather, Draco found himself to be someone who could be soft; who could laugh and joke with the best of them. He found himself to be someone who wanted to help people in their time of need; in their most vulnerable state when all they need is someone to trust and someone to listen.

As he takes on more and more patients, it’s because he needs to work. He has to work through this; he doesn’t often show how death affects him so, but on some level, he had known Violet. He just didn’t expect her death so soon.

Focusing intently on the charts in his hand, Draco blinks away the tears threatening to fall. With a deep breath and a fake smile, he enters exam room two, ready to meet another patient.

\--------

Violet’s fiancée, Jonathan, approaches him a few hours after her death. His face is tear stained and puffy as he clears his throat to gain Draco’s attention from a conversation with Nurse Janice.

“Jonathan,” Draco greets, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Jonathan nods wordlessly; blinking fast to get ready of the already building tears. He clears his throat again, “I just,” He takes a deep breath, “I just came down to thank you.”

“For what?” Draco asks; confused.

Jonathan lets his tears fall, saying, “For sitting with her when the dialysis was draining her, and for helping her laugh. For keeping her company when I couldn’t be there because of work.”

A lump forms in Draco’s throat, “That isn’t something you have to thank me for.”

Jonathan shrugs, “Regardless, thank you.” He turns to walk away but he pauses at the last minute, “Would you come to the memorial? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I think it would mean to a lot to her family if they met you.”

Draco nods; not even second-guessing his answer, “Of course. Let me know the details and I’ll get it off work.”

Jonathan nods; his face puffier than before from the freshly fallen tears. He holds his hand up in a wave before leaving St. Mungo’s.

\-----

How Draco makes his way home is beyond him. He works the rest of his shift in a stupor; the familiar heaviness of grief settling over him for which he feels foolish and ridiculous.

He doesn’t remember entering his flat; doesn’t remember shedding his coat, letting his bag fall to the floor. Sitting on the couch, Draco submits to the grief. He submits to overwhelming sense of loss battering his walls; demanding to be felt.

On the inside, Draco is a storm; raging, raging, raging.

On the outside, he’s as calm as anything, staring at the mantle piece as he lets himself finally feel.

\---------

Draco’s building was one of the many converted mills in London; brown bricked and grand, it stood proudly on its street, wearing its history like a badge of honour. His flat is on the fifth floor; one of the largest in the building – a gift from his parents after completing his training with high honours. He had lived there ever since, and (Y/N) had visited often over the years of their friendship.

(Y/N) knocks three times, calling his name with each one before she tries the door.

Entering his flat, (Y/N) always takes a moment to admire the pictures that line the wall. Admiring the beauty of Draco’s mother, and almost flinching at the imposing figure his father presents.

This time, however, she marches straight past them, calling Draco’s name for him not to reply. She only knew to come over here when he hadn’t met her to catch the tube together like they usually did when their shifts coincided. The words she flung at him earlier, she hadn’t meant. They had settled in her bones with an uncomfortable feeling; leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Truthfully, she had been worried about Draco since the news of Violet’s death had made its way to her ears; the gossip chain of the emergency room never one to falter.

She finds Draco on his couch; still wearing the clothes he left work in. Dropping her bag and shrugging off her coat, (Y/N) takes a seat next to Draco on the couch. He barely registers her presence; barely even blinking at the change of weight. She tries not to let it hurt her, but it does. Seeing him like this… it was something she hadn’t ever seen before.

Draco always presented himself as collected. The most dishevelled he ever got was whenever he worked nights and for most of the week, he would sport stubble. However, that was always gone by the time he came back onto day.

This was something new, though. His grief wasn’t anything she had encountered, and though they spoke often and told each other they cared for one another, they had never truly spoken about the feelings between them.

She coaxes his head onto her shoulder, and it’s there that Draco lets the first of his tears fall and the first of his sobs escape his chest.

He has seen death. He’s courted it for years – through the war, through his job. He has had patients die om him and had mourned each of their deaths, but he had never felt loss this keenly before. He felt scrubbed raw from the inside out.

He doesn’t know how long he cries for; he doesn’t know how long she holds him for but somewhere in between in it all, he manages to choke out his thanks which she hurriedly hushes. Her response being to hold onto him tighter.

Time passes, and his sobs start to slow, but they do not let go of the other, needing their anchors more than anything in this moment. In the pain of it all, Draco finds solace in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Chapter Four is on its way!
> 
> Feedback really is appreciated so please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


	5. Chapter Four: Aftermath and Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has something important to ask (Y/N), but will he work up the courage to ask her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> WARNINGS: talks of grief and loss, mutual pining, mentions of food, mentions of injuries, injured child BUT THERE IS FLUFF!
> 
> Feedback is so so appreciated. Please leave a comment and a kudos if you liked!

Draco wakes to the smell of coffee and toast. He finds himself laid, curled up on his couch with a blanket covering him. He blinks once, twice – his eyes are crusty from the tears shed last night.

With a loaded sigh, Draco sits up, rubbing his face and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. He finds (Y/N) in the kitchen; her back to him as she butters the toast and makes two mugs of instant coffee.

Silently, she pushes Draco’s coffee towards him before taking a sip of her own. She watches him as he drinks; her keen eyes focused over the rim of her mug as she waits for him to break down again.

“I’m okay,” He whispers hoarsely.

Her eyes narrow; she doesn’t believe him, and he thinks that she’s probably right to not believe him. He shifts his gaze from her to the mug in his hands; staring down at the bitter liquid he relies so heavily on, “Really. I’m not going to break down again.”

(Y/N)’s mug clinks delicately as she places it back down on the counter, “Are you sure?”

Draco nods, “I’m sure.”

She sighs through her nose, “I’ve never seen you like that, Draco.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, “Don’t be sorry, I’m just concerned.”

“It won’t happen again; yesterday took me by surprise.”

“I believe you.”

Draco meets her gaze; his blue eyes bright, “Thank you for staying.”

(Y/N) smiles, “You know I’m here for you.”

“I know,” Draco whispers; smiling smally at her.

Cold toast and lukewarm coffee is breakfast for them both; tired eyes crinkling in the corners as shy smiles are shared. Last night changed something between them, and they’re both aware of it. However, neither truly know how to approach it.

Draco finishes his piece of toast before asking, “Where did you sleep last night?”

(Y/N)’s face heats; something Draco hasn’t seen for a while; it took a lot to elicit such a reaction from her. She finishes chewing before replying, “You fell asleep on me. I ended up sleeping underneath you.”

Draco blushes from his neck to his hairline; he opens his mouth to apologise, but (Y/N) beats him to it, “Don’t apologise; I didn’t mind – you make quite the lovely blanket.”

Draco ducks his head; pleased to know that she didn’t mind sleeping with him.

(Y/N)’s eyes glance towards the clock, “Are you on today?”

Draco nods. (Y/N)’s eyes narrow once again, “Are you sure that’s wise?”

He sighs, “What happened last night won’t happen again. I need to work, (Y/N). Life doesn’t just stop.”

She frowns, “You’ll come get me though; if you need someone?”

Draco nods, “I promise.”

(Y/N) smiles, picking up her almost empty coffee cup, “We better head off soon.”

He sighs; he had hoped for more time with her, “Give me ten minutes to get dressed and we can go.”

\---------

The break room is empty when they arrive at work meaning that they can pull on their lab coats and share a few minutes of silence before entering the fray, getting safely distracted for the rest of the day.

“Remember your promise,” (Y/N) reminds him, squeezing his hand.

He squeezes back, “I will. Are we meeting for lunch?”

She raises an eyebrow, “Are you buying?”

“I think I can manage that.”

She laughs; letting his hand drop. Draco feels suddenly cold. Her eyes shine with mischief as she answers, “I’ll come find you when I’m free.”

“I look forward to it.”

Draco gives himself a moment after (Y/N) leaves the break; he lets himself have a quiet moment to himself where he takes a few deep breaths and listens to the tinny sound of the now ancient television set in the corner of the room. Closing his eyes, Draco lets the monotonous tone of the muggle news anchor wash over him, calming his mind and his heart.

Readying himself for the pitying looks and the busy emergency room, Draco heads to the admit desk.

Vera greets Draco with a raised eyebrow and a question falling from her tongue, “Was that you and (Y/N) I saw walking in together?”

Draco rolls his eyes, “Yes, just like most shifts we share together.”

“You looked particularly cosy… and I couldn’t help but notice she was in the same clothes as yesterday.”

Draco meets Vera’s eyes, “She stayed over last night. I wasn’t in any place to be alone after what happened.”

Vera’s eyes fill with sympathy and sadness; she wraps Draco in a hug that has him fighting back tears for the pure fact that it reminds him of his mother’s hugs. Vera pats his back twice then letting him go; she wipes her eyes quickly before grabbing a chart from the side, “35 year old female; fainted in Diagon Alley.”

Draco takes the chart from her gratefully, “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

\--------

He manages to keep himself distracted; he doesn’t overload on patients like he did yesterday, but he takes on a fair few that he knows he can handle with all the experience under his belt.

It keeps his body busy and his mind occupied; he cannot focus on grief if he is trying to figure out the cause of an otherwise healthy female’s loss of consciousness whilst out shopping with her mother-in-law. Draco has his suspicions that it’s down to the overbearing nature of said mother-in-law but at the pleading look in his patient’s eyes, he keeps her in for further observation – if only to give her a break.

He flits about from patient to patient; ordering tests and then handing out prescriptions. It’s days like this, when the load is heavy but manageable, that Draco is reminded of why he became a Healer in the first place. He loves to help people; it’s at the very centre of his being, but for so long, it was hidden by his teenaged cockiness and the insurmountable pressure from his family.

It’s days like these when Draco is reminded if the fact that he is a good Healer; that he is talented at what does and that is because of the Healers that trained him, but also of the staff he works with. Draco knows that he could only get so far without the help and support of those he works with, and it’s on days like this when he is forever grateful for the nurses that kick him up the arse when needs must.

\-------

James Shannon approaches Draco as he sits at the admit desk, making the last few chart notes on patients discharged yesterday – something he chose to neglect due to his sour mood. James interrupts Draco’s reading with a cough, “Healer Malfoy?”

“James,” Draco greets, turning to face the trainee, “How can I help?”

James looks almost anxious as he asks, “What happened yesterday… with Violet, does it happen often?”

Draco sighs; expecting the question from at least one of the trainees, “No, it doesn’t happen often.”

James continues to watch him; hoping for a longer explanation. Draco huffs, “Through your career as a Healer, you are going to meet patients who come into the emergency room frequently. Take for example Mrs. Larkin who I’m sure you’ve met already,” At James’ nod, he carries on, “Mrs. Larkin very rarely needs medical treatment, James; she’s a lonely widow who needs company that she doesn’t get from the rest of her family. So we let her sit in an exam room; check her over and yes, over her multiple visits, a friendship develops.”

“Is that what happened with Violet?”

Draco frowns, “I was Violet’s primary physician and the one who diagnosed her kidney failure. When her fiancée was at work, I would sit with her through her dialysis for as long as I could. It was more a friendship of convenience, but a friendship nonetheless”

James nods, “I know that you’re my boss and I’m only a trainee, but I want to tell you this if I may?”

Draco raises an eyebrow; he can’t help but be sceptical as he murmurs, “Okay.”

James sighs, “It wasn’t your fault… what happened to her. Violet’s death wasn’t your fault and I know you feel guilty about it but there was nothing you could do, and I know Healer Thomas would have tried his hardest to bring her back. And I know what it feels like to feel guilt for someone else’s death – I lost my older sister when I was six.”

Guilt pools in Draco’s stomach for a second; it seems that he misjudged James due to the attention he gathered from (Y/N), but also of his status within the wizarding world. Draco berates himself internally; he should have known better; he knows full well what it’s like to be judged before your character is truly known by those around you. Draco looks over the young trainee and it becomes clear to Draco as to why James chose Healing as a profession; he would never be able to save his own sister, but maybe – just maybe, James might be able to save someone else’s.

Draco eventually nods; he stands, patting James on his shoulder, “Thank you, James. I think I needed to hear that.”

A small smile breaks across James’ face; he nods twice, happy to have helped his superior in anyway. He turns away, but pauses at the sound of Draco’s voice, “James?” James turns to face his boss who’s smiling at him, “I think you’re going to be a fine Healer.”

\------

“Draco!” (Y/N) shouts; lab coat flying out behind her as she runs to his side.

Hastily, he turns to her. “What? What’s happened?” He asks, his voice laced with worry and concern; mind running through all possible scenarios for the reason as to why she’s shouting his name and running.

She pants slightly, sidling up next to him, “I heard it was paediatric.”

Draco nods; casting his gaze back out across the bay, counting down in his head for when the emergency transport should arrive. “What did they say?” (Y/N) asks; her focus sharpening.

“Six year old girl; bitten by a werewolf.”

(Y/N) lurches back in shock, gloves halfway on her hands, “What?”

Draco nods; confirming, “We get at least one around the full moon, you know that.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Did they say how bad?”

Draco shakes his head, “They couldn’t tell us a lot other than it was bleeding a lot.”

(Y/N) sighs, “We need to keep this quiet, Draco. They’re lobbying a new decree in the ministry this week about lycanthropy.”

Draco doesn’t remove his gaze from the emergency bay; veins already thrumming with adrenaline, “Let’s treat the patient first. We’ll worry about politics later.”

\-------

Six year old Ailsa is quiet as she is wheeled into the emergency room. Her eyes are wide as they take in the new environment, and she answers questions with the tiniest of sobs. Her mother follows behind; tears streaming down her face as she recites Ailsa’s allergies and any worries she has.

Ailsa flinches as the wound is cleaned. Draco realises upon examination that the bite isn’t too deep meaning that the chance of transmission has significantly lowered since Ailsa first arrived at St. Mungo’s.

(Y/N) arrives at Draco’s side immediately; the bottle of wolfsbane potion already uncorked and ready to be given to the patient. With a sorrowful smile, Draco says, “Ailsa, I’m going to need you to drink this. Now, it isn’t going to taste very nice, but, I happen to know that if you drink all of this, you can have some of the chocolate milk hidden away in the staff room.”

Ailsa’s nose crinkles. “Do I have to drink all of it?” She asks in a small voice; watching the vapour rise from the potion.

Draco chuckles, holding the potion out for her to drink, “If you want the chocolate milk, I’m afraid you have to.”

Fierce determination settles on Ailsa’s face as she takes the potion from Draco; she would get the promised chocolate milk and enjoy every drop. At her mother’s encouraging smile, Ailsa drinks down the potion, frowning heavily at the taste.

She holds up the empty bottle with a victorious grin, “Finished.”

Draco laughs, “Looks like we owe you chocolate milk, Ailsa.”

Ailsa nods happily; handing the empty bottle back to Draco. He takes a step back, “Good job, Ailsa. I’m going to go make a phone call and I’ll be right back with your chocolate milk. How does that sound?”

She nods once again; distracted by her mother wrapping her up in a hug. Draco smiles at the scene before leaving. (Y/N) follows him, waiting until they’re of earshot of the family before saying, “She’s going to be okay, isn’t she? We both saw the bite.”

Draco shrugs, “Truthfully, I don’t know,” He looks towards trauma one, “I really don’t know.”

(Y/N) sighs, “Well I hope so.”

Leaving (Y/N) to manage her own patients, Draco goes in search for a phone and Ailsa’s chocolate milk; happy to find the one in the break room free.

He rifles around in his wallet for the card handed to him by Harry not so long back; an idea forming in his mind. Balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear, Draco punches in the number, relieved to hear the dial tone. It rings four times before a weary voice answers, “Hello?”

“Hello. Is that Professor Lupin?” Draco asks; mind flickering back to his father’s treatment of the werewolf.

A slow chuckle answers, “I haven’t been a professor in over ten years. Who is this?”

“Draco Malfoy, sir.”

The line falls silent; Draco thinks that he’s hung up which is understandable really. Draco had been surprised when Harry, Ron and Hermione had forgiven him; he wouldn’t be surprised however, if Remus Lupin drops the line.

Minutes pass before Remus speaks up, “Draco Malfoy? I never thought I would hear from you. How did you get my number?”

Draco chuckles; half embarrassed, “Harry gave it to me, sir.”

“You don’t need to call me ‘sir’, Draco. Remus will do just fine.”

“Thank you, Remus. I was calling for your help with a patient.”

“A patient?” Remus asks; shock lacing his voice.

“Yes, I’m an attending in the emergency room at St. Mungo’s now,” Draco answers; unable to help the strong tone of pride in his voice – he would always be proud of his job and all that he has achieved so far through it.

Draco hears the surprised intake of breath by Remus, “That isn’t something I expected to hear.”

Draco shakes his head though Remus can’t see him, “I surprise everyone when they hear about my career choice.”

“Nevertheless,” Remus’ gravelly voice says over the line, “It’s an incredibly noble profession, Draco, and one I can only assume you excel at.”

“Thank you, Remus,” Draco says quietly; overcome by the kindness shown by one he treated so poorly.

“Now, you rang me for a reason. How can I help?”

Draco startles; remembering as to why he was on the phone to his old professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind speaking to a patient and her family. Harry gave me your card not long back and said that you offered advice to families who found themselves struggling with lycanthropy.”

Draco hears another surprised intake of breath, “What happened?”

“A six year old girl was bitten; her mother is worried that she’ll turn.”

“When was she bitten?” Remus asks urgently; voice serious.

Draco checks his chart, “Her mother says this morning; the werewolf broke in and got spooked by her daughter waking up to use the bathroom.”

Remus makes a sad noise on the end of the phone, “So similar to my own attack.”

Sadness washes over Draco; he had known the story of Remus’ bite – there were few in his parent’s social circle who didn’t know considering they all knew the werewolf who had turned him. Remus brings Draco back to the present, “The full moon waned last night; we were at our weakest last night so the bite should amount to nothing.”

Draco grips the receiver tighter in his hands; hope beginning to flicker in his chest, “And you’re sure of that?”

Remus sighs, “I’m not 100%, but we are always most vulnerable as the moon wanes and the bite so rarely takes when we’re weak.”

“What would recommend? I’ve already administered wolfsbane potion which the poor girl didn’t appreciate. I had to promise her chocolate milk to get through it.”

Remus chuckles, “No, I can’t imagine she did. You’ve covered yourselves with the wolfsbane potion; that’s good thinking, Draco. Other than that, it’s a waiting game.”

Draco sighs into the phone, “You’re certain she won’t turn this full moon if the bite has been successful?”

“She won’t turn now. The moon has left its apex; I can feel its strength leaving me as we speak.”

Draco huffs out a breath of relief; he won’t have a child werewolf running around his emergency room then. He has to ask, “What about next month?”

“That’s what we have to wait for.”

Draco nods then remembers that Remus can’t see him, “So I just need to tell the mother that it’s now a waiting game.”

“That’s right. However, if you have a spare wolfsbane potion, give it to the mother. That way, should her child turn, the potion will make her docile and less dangerous.”

Draco makes a note to do so on the girl’s chart. He holds the receiver close to his ear, “Remus, would you mind if I passed on your details to the mother? That way she can ring for advice should anything happen with the next moon.”

Draco can hear the sad smile in Remus’ voice, “Of course you can, Draco. Pass on my well wishes to the family, please.”

“Thank you, Remus. You’ve been a massive help.”

Remus’ voice is gentle as he says, “Anything I can do, Draco.”

Draco hangs up on his ex-professor; feeling hatred towards his younger self for being so naïve to believe his family’s prejudices towards those markedly different to them. Shame washes over him as he thinks of the things he had said about the well-mannered man, knowing he was within hearing distance. Grabbing a bottle of chocolate milk from the fridge, he makes a mental note to send a letter of apology with Harry the next time he was to visit his godson.

With the information from Remus, Draco asks Vera to grab another wolfsbane potion from the potion lock up. As she does that, Draco writes up the prescription and advice for Ailsa’s mother.

Wolfsbane potion in one hand and chocolate milk in the other, Draco returns to trauma one where Ailsa and her mother sit, chatting quietly. From looking at her, you wouldn’t have though that Ailsa had been bitten by anything larger than a small dog. Her attitude towards it had been entirely blasé and Draco couldn’t decide whether it was shock or simply Ailsa’s resilience making an appearance.

Draco smiles reassuring at Ailsa’s mother who stands when she notices Draco entering the room. He hands the chocolate milk to the child; her face lighting up at a promise fulfilled.

“I’m fairly confident that she will not turn into a werewolf. After examination, the wound was quite shallow. The issue is, we cannot be fully certain, so whilst Ailsa may not turn with this full moon – she could with the next. So, here is a wolfsbane potion to be given to her at the start of the week of the full moon. If Ailsa turns, the potion will keep her docile and make her less dangerous. However, I’d also like to give you the contact details of someone who can help should you have any worries.”

Ailsa’s mothers eyes shine with fresh tears as she whispers, “That would be so helpful. Thank you, Healer Malfoy.”

Draco nods; rifling for the small rectangular card in his pocket. “His name is Remus Lupin; he used to teach at Hogwarts, but now helps those come through the moon with as little damage as possible. This is his card, I’ve already rung ahead, he’s expecting your call should you have any worries. He also passes on his well wishes.”

Ailsa’s mother lets her tears fall as she takes the card from Draco. She reads over the fine print for a second before tucking it in her pocket, “And he’s good, you say?”

“He’s the best.”

\--------

It takes Draco twelve hours to work up the nerve to ask (Y/N) to dinner. He thought about asking her at his flat, but tensions were high, and should she say no, it would make for an awkward commute to work. He felt there were opportunities all through their shared shift; as he poured their first coffees, at lunch when she kept stealing chips from his plate, as she consulted on a patient for him. He had countless opportunities, but he doesn’t grab at them; he just waits.

At the end of every shift they share, they always head home together, living on the same tube line. Their fingers brush every now and then; sending jolts of electricity through Draco’s veins. It takes every inch of his restraint not to pull her into a kiss as they walk to the tube station; everything about her drives him mad. She’s just finished working a twelve hour shift and yet, she’s as beautiful as she was this morning, sliding him a coffee over his breakfast counter.

Draco realises that he wants to wake to her making coffee for the rest of his life if she’ll have him.

The tube station looms in front of them. _It’s now or never_ , Draco thinks to himself as he looks up to the timetable where it announces its three minutes until the next train.

“Do you want to grab dinner some time?” He asks suddenly, swivelling on the spot to face her, “With me, alone, outside of the hospital,” He adds on for awkward clarification.

“Don’t ask me to dinner because of your grief, Malfoy,” She warns; voice filling with emotion.

Draco shakes his head; a small smile gracing his lips, “It isn’t that. I’m asking you to dinner because I want to date you.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Oh.”

“So… not out of grief, not out of thanks – out of the fact that I like you, a lot, would you like to get dinner with me?”

(Y/N) beams at him; the sight of him leaving him breathless, “Yes, I would like to get dinner with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The final chapter is on its way!
> 
> Feedback is so so appreciated. Please leave a comment and a kudos if you liked!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


	6. Chapter Five: Past Hauntings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has finally asked (Y/N) to dinner, but will their date run smoothly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> WARNINGS: mentions of food; dinner scene, I made up a jinx, mentions of injuries, brief descriptions of procedures, strong reader, fluff, swearing, mean old man.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated; it is such a motivator so please if you enjoyed, leave a comment and a kudos.

Draco lands on (Y/N)’s doorstep half an hour before their reservation at a bistro recommended to him by Dean.

He releases a shaky breath before knocking twice on her front door. Draco had only been to her home three or four times through the length of their friendship; (Y/N) much preferred to relax at his place and at his, she was closer to the hospital should she be called for anything.

Calming his heart, Draco fiddles with the cuff of his white shirt; ensuring that just enough poked out from underneath the black suit jacket he had chosen to wear.

It takes another knock at her door for (Y/N) to answer; she wrenches the door open with an apologetic smile, “I’m so sorry, Draco, I’m almost ready. I just need to find my shoes, jacket and bag and we can go.”

“Don’t apologise,” He laughs; his nerves abating somewhat, “You were dancing weren’t you?”

(Y/N) flushes, “How did you know?”

Draco points above him; to her bedroom where he can hear the well-known sounds of ABBA playing, “You love ABBA, it makes sense you would dance.”

She rolls her eyes, “Alright Sherlock, I was dancing to ABBA and I lost track of time, is that better?”

Draco laughs, nodding, “Much better.”

She smiles, “Good. Let me go grab the rest of my things and we can go.”

Draco doesn’t verbalise his response; he simply nods at her, watching her walk away, admiring her outfit. (Y/N) wears figure hugging tailored trousers; tapered so they’re tighter at the hems. His eyes rake over her body as she climbs the stairs to her room; he chides himself for not acting like a gentlemen but the stirring desire in his veins tells him not to bother.

(Y/N) rushes back down the stairs; almost tripping on the last step as she bounces around, trying to slip her foot into her heel. Draco lurches forward; reaching for her just as she topples forward. He can’t help the laugh that leaves his mouth, “Are you okay?”

She stands with a huff; hoisting her bag on her shoulder having put her jacket on upstairs, “I’m fine. Shall we get going?”

Draco smirks; holding out his arm for her to take, “As you wish, Dancing Queen.”

\-------

Draco had booked a table at a small bistro; nothing overly fancy, but still cosy enough to retain the romantic atmosphere he hopes will continue throughout the date.

It’s not an overly large restaurant; fifteen or so tables all covered with red and white gingham cloth. A small kitchen resides in the back of the bistro; the scent of Mediterranean herbs making Draco’s stomach rumble as he and (Y/N) are led to their table.

“How did you find this place?” She asks, sliding into her chair, shucking off her jacket.

“Dean recommended it to me.”

(Y/N) smiles, “I was gonna say. This doesn’t have ‘Malfoy’ written all over it.”

He raises an eyebrow, “And what does?”

She taps a finger to her chin; deliberating with a small smile, “Michelin Stars, for starters. Huge plates with tiny portions of food, and expensive wine lists.”

Draco holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re right. However, my father is the sommelier of the family, I simply drink the stuff.”

(Y/N) snorts, “Is Draco Malfoy a rebel?”

He blushes at her teasing tone; glancing back down to the menu in his hands. A satisfied smile spreads across (Y/N)’s face at the sight of leaving Draco speechless; he so often had comebacks ready. It was a treat to see him so affected by her.

She peers down at the menu, “What are you thinking?”

“Is it completely stereotypical of me to go for the steak?” Draco ponders.

She shakes her head, laughing, “I may have been thinking the same thing.”

They hand their menus over to the waiter; giving their orders and choosing not to drink. Instead, they stick to water. Work tomorrow would be easier if they didn’t have a hangover to deal with as well.

“How long are you on tomorrow?” Draco asks.

(Y/N) shakes her head, “Let’s not talk about work.”

“I can do that,” He comments, “What would you like to talk about?”

She raises an eyebrow, “How did you know I was listening to ABBA? I thought you didn’t care much for muggle music.”

Draco flushes, “I don’t care for a lot of muggle music.”

“But you like ABBA?”

Draco nods; trying not to roll his eyes, “I like ABBA.”

(Y/N) laughs; clapping her hands together in delight, “That is my new favourite thing about you, Draco.”

“Oh?” He smirks, “What was it before?”

(Y/N) flushes as she averts her eyes; glancing around the room, “Truthfully?”

“Now you have me worried…”

She shoots him a glare, “I won’t tell if you’re going to be an arse.”

Draco holds one hand up in surrender; the other crosses over his heart, “I promise I won’t be an arse tonight.”

(Y/N) smiles shyly, “Your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

(Y/N) nods; the flush spreading to her neck as she bites her lip. The specific knowledge settles in Draco; making its home in his heart.

She recovers quickly, “What about you?”

“What about me?” Draco counters; knowing exactly where she’s going with this.

“What’s your favourite thing about me?”

Draco shuffles in his seat; butterflies running riot in his stomach. He reaches for his glass of water; wetting his mouth before speaking, “I don’t have a specific thing.”

(Y/N) visibly deflates; disappointed at his words, “You don’t?”

Draco nods; deciding honesty to be the best policy, “My favourite thing about you is all of you.”

“Oh…” (Y/N) whispers; a mesmerising smile breaking over her face and leaving him breathless. She opens her mouth to say more; to say what she feels in this moment, but as the words start to form on the tip of her tongue she’s interrupted by the arrival of their food.

With practiced flourish, the waiter places their food in front of them. The smell and sight making Draco’s mouth water. He digs in after sending a broad smile over to (Y/N) who watches Draco with bright eyes and a large smile herself.

Conversation is little as they eat; the both of them practiced in the art of needing to eat and rushing off to the next patient.

They get halfway through their main courses when Draco’s pager sounds. He looks at (Y/N) apologetically, “I thought I had turned it off. I told the hospital that I was off for the night, not be called in at any time.”

(Y/N) moves to answer, but she is interrupted by her own pager sounding in her bag. She glances at Draco sheepishly; the apology glimmering in her eyes as she reaches for it. Her expression changes as she reads over the number on the screen; Draco feels so concerned he can’t help but reach for his own pager to read what’s on the screen.

It takes them less than five minutes to pay the bill and rush from the restaurant; hurrying into a side alley to apparate to the emergency room.

They’re greeted by Vera; she looks them up and down, “Did you drink?”

Draco and (Y/N) shake their heads, “We’re both on tomorrow; we stuck to water.”

Vera thrusts trauma gowns at them, “Good. We need you sharp.”

Draco’s senses hone in; attention becoming laser sharp and focused. The shift in him is visible all to watching him; the relaxed posture dropping away to make room for the attending. He looks to Vera as he slides on goggles, “What do we have coming in?”

“Large raid on one of the last death eater hang outs. A battle broke out; everyone injured is coming our way,” Vera shakes her head, “It’s even being reported on muggle news; that’s how bad things got.”

“ETA?”

“Less than two minutes.”

Draco exhales, “Where are the trainees?”

“Behind you Healer Malfoy,” Matthew Kinghorn’s voice calls out.

He turns to find all four already gowned and gloved, ready and waiting. He meets the eyes of each one, “This will be your first large trauma, am I correct?” At their nods, he continues, “Okay. Split off to your attendings; do not get in the way. Help when you can but do not overcrowd. Kinghorn, I want you with me.”

Matthew startles; already heading towards his attending. Draco shakes his head; waiting for the other trainees to file away, “I want to see how you handle a trauma situation after I saw you with our impalement. We don’t exactly know what’s coming in but stay alert. If you think you’re going to be sick, leave the room. Do you understand?”

Matthew nods; remaining silent, following Draco as the first of the injured roll up.

From there, it’s close to a blood bath. St. Mungo’s is the only wizarding hospital in the entire country; supposedly equipped to handle such traumas. However, when the patients are from two groups with such differing ideals, keeping them separated is difficult.

In his head, Draco plans to make another appeal to the Minster for Magic; wondering if Hermione could help him persuade the powers that be for another hospital.

Piercing screams distract Draco from his plans to expand the hospital. With Matthew close behind, Draco rushes towards the sound. Being wheeled in by medics is a young Auror; barely out of his twenties or so Draco assumes – his face and body have been burnt so badly by a jinx that it makes it difficult for Draco to age the patient but also for the patient to offer anything but his screams.

The moment they enter the trauma room, Draco administers a pain potion. In cases like this, the survival rate was low. The most that could be done is to offer as much comfort to the patient as possible.

Draco looks over to Matthew, “How are you feeling, Kinghorn?”

Matthew’s gaze finally meets Draco; his skin looking rather green, “I’ve never seen something so bad.”

“Cases like this are rare, but they do happen. Now, the patient isn’t getting enough oxygen with the mask, what do we need to do?”

Matthew flounders; Draco adjusts the mask on the patient’s face, repeating his words, “What do we need to do, Matthew?”

The use of his first name snaps his out of whatever stupor, “Intubate. He needs to be intubated.”

“Have you seen one done?”

Matthew nods, “Healer (Y/L/N) showed me last week.”

“Good. You know what they say, ‘see one, do one, teach one’. Get over here, Matthew,” Draco leans over the patient, “Sir, we’re going to have to put a tube in your throat to help you breath.”

The patient nods; a tear falling down his face as he realises the likelihood of him coming off the vent is low. At the patient’s nod, Draco administers a sedative – to help the patient and Matthew through this. Draco looks to Matthew; nodding his head slightly for him to begin the procedure.

Matthew bounces to life; rushing to the head of the patient. Draco hands him the scope and tube needed for the procedure; speaking him through it as Matthew visualises the cords, slipping the tube down the patient’s throat – aiming for the lungs and not the stomach.

(Y/N) joins Draco as Matthew finishes intubating the patient; the need for muggle medicine a priority when the jinxes and curses were so bad there was little chance of recovery. This particular patient had been hit with the extensive burn jinx – a nasty jinx that isn’t seen too often as it causes third degree burns across 80% of the body; spreading across the body like a wildfire, giving the witch or wizard hit a low chance of survival.

“How did you find our first date?” Draco asks as (Y/N) begins to debride the burns; giving the patient some chance of relief.

(Y/N) smiles at him from over the trauma, “It’s like you knew exactly what I wanted.”

Draco can’t help the laugh that escapes him; quickly regaining his professionalism, however and apologising to the patient even though he is sedated. He looks back to her, “Can you handle it from here?”

She nods; eyes flickering the trauma room behind, “I’ve got it. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

Draco grins at her; pulling off his gloves and gown before rushing into the next trauma. The patient is agitated; shouting and screaming at the nurses, leaving Jude Prewett scared but firm as she talks him down.

The Auror only gets angrier at the sight of Draco; hollering for the whole floor to hear, “I won’t have you treat me! I demand another Healer. Get me another Healer.”

“Healer Malfoy is the best Healer we have,” Jude reassures; eyes flickering between the patient and Draco.

The patient shakes his head; adamant, “I won’t have a Death Eater treat me. He’ll kill me just as he would look at me.”

Draco wants to shout; wants to get in the patient’s face and list all the ways he’s repented since he was a scared and vulnerable sixteen year old, doing what he thought was right for his family.

He doesn’t though; he sighs sadly, stepping back from the patient, “I understand sir, I’ll go fetch another Healer,” He looks to Jude, “Are you okay for a few more minutes while I go get Healer (Y/L/N)?”

Jude nods; eyes sad from Draco’s quick dismissal. As Draco returns to trauma room one, he hears Jude say, “I hope you know you just insulted one of the best Healers we have.”

(Y/N) looks up as Draco re-enters, “What’s wrong?”

Draco shakes his head; hating the lump that has formed in his throat, “Do you mind treating next door?”

She nods down to the patient she is currently working on, “I’m busy here. Why can’t you do it?”

“He doesn’t want to be treated by me. Wants another Healer.”

“Why?” She demands; voice angry, eyes angrier as they glance into the room behind Draco.

“We’ll talk about it later. Will you please treat him? I can take over here.”

(Y/N) looks like she very much wants to argue with him, but she decides against it. She nods quietly; handing Draco her scalpel before disrobing, “What’s his name?” She asks, referring to the patient.

Draco shrugs; focusing his attention on the burn victim, “We didn’t get that far.”

\-----

(Y/N) liked to believe that she was patient; she knew when she began her training as a Healer that she would need to learn the art of patience and fast for there are some patients who have a list of medical complaints a mile long.

However, she did not have any patience for the narrow-minded Auror ranting before her.

“I can’t believe a place like this would hire him.”

“Hire who?” She asks; daring him to say it.

“Him,” He spits; jutting his chin to next door when (Y/N) knows Draco works diligently over another Auror who may only have hours to live due to the extensiveness of their burns.

“That man you’re spitting about happens to be working on your colleague.”

The Auror rolls his eyes, “My colleague wouldn’t be in his mess if it wasn’t for families like his. I knew who he was the moment he walked in the room; Lucius Malfoy’s brat.”

(Y/N) grits her teeth; continuing to stitch up the man’s arm; refusing to rise to his vitriol. He takes her silence as permission to continue, “I’m surprised we didn’t find his father there. We certainly found a lot of his friends; hiding together like rats, plotting their next uprising as if the last one worked. Who are they going to worship now? The Dark Lord is gone.”

“And yet,” (Y/N) breathes, “You cannot say his name without being scared.”

The Auror glares at her; not happy to have his courage questioned. He remains silent through the rest of his treatment; seething at her words, knowing that she called him on his bullshit.

(Y/N) removes her gloves, standing from her chair, “I would say that it’s been a pleasure to heal you given that you’re an Auror, but it hasn’t. I will be contacting your superior for the abuse you’ve shown my colleague – who, for your information, has nothing to repent for. I understand questioning the adults that followed Lord Voldemort, but you do not get to question the children who were innocent bystanders in a game they didn’t understand.”

The Auror laughs menacingly, “Speak to my superior, see if I care.”

(Y/N) grins, “I will. You’ve ballsed up big time – want to know why?”

The Auror remains quiet so (Y/N) tells him anyway, nodding towards Draco, “Your boss is one of his best friends.”

The colour fades from the Auror’s face and (Y/N) admits to herself that she rather enjoyed telling him what’s what. Patience is something that (Y/N) is still learning; even almost ten years into her career, but what she will not stand for in any form, is bullying.

\----

Draco takes a moment of leave from the burn patient when his family arrive in floods of tears; asking about statistics and whether he was positive that nothing could be done.

He doesn’t see the commotion, but he hears it; her voice travels down the hall, easily leading Draco to her. He finds her gesturing wildly to an unprepared Harry Potter.

Harry catches his eye; pleading silently for help. Draco makes his way to her side; placing his hand on the small of her back, “What’s happening here?”

“I was just tell Harry about that lovely patient we have

“Auror Flintlock?” Draco asks; taking the chart from (Y/N)’s hands.

Her hands settle on her hips, “Potter, you have to do something about him. He was wildly inappropriate towards Draco.”

Draco sighs, “Patients can refuse to be treated by certain Healers, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) purses her lips; her attention still fixed on Harry, “I want to see him at least written up and giving an official warning for how he continued to speak after Draco left the room.”

Harry nods, “He’ll be written up, (Y/N). He’s been skating on thin ice for a while.”

(Y/N) folds her arms; a victorious look on her face, “Thank you, Potter.”

Harry smiles; nodding at them both, not missing their closeness. He makes a mental note to mention it to Draco the next time they go drinking. Harry looks towards trauma one, “How’s he doing?”

Draco pats Harry’s shoulder, “80% thickness burns to most of his body. It was a nasty jinx, Harry.”

“How long does he have?”

“Hours,” Draco states plainly, “His family is with him now.”

Harry nods; silver lining his eyes, sighing, “Good. They should be. He’s been on the force less than a year.”

With little else to say, Harry leaves Draco and (Y/N) – fulfilling his duty as an Auror; going to comfort the family of one of their own.

Draco and (Y/N) retreat to the break room; never officially being on in the first place. Like always, the ancient television set only displays the muggle news in a hushed volume; the red banner skirting across the bottom of the screen announcing an unexplained explosion on the outskirts of London. The news anchor repeats how lucky it was that no-one was hurt. Draco represses the urge to roll his eyes; muggles weren’t hurt, that’s correct and he’s thankful for that, but his emergency room is filled with Aurors and Death Eaters alike – all injured and vulnerable because of what happened tonight.

Draco settles at the round table in the middle of the room; sighing in relief at getting off his feet for a little bit. (Y/N) sits next to him; her hand reaching for his across the table. An act of affection so naturally displayed that it sends Draco’s heart rate through the roof.

He regrets the fact that their date had been cut short, but with any luck, (Y/N) wouldn’t mind a repeat. He thinks to their brief conversation in the bistro and for a second, he wonders whether she would protest much to his version of wining and dining. Reservations needing to be made weeks in advance; wine lists four pages long – each bottle with multiple zeroes behind the name. He realises he would like to show her the world in which he grew up; the fancy dinners and balls, but he also accepts that he would be happy in any world as long as he’s with her.

“Are you staying with him?” (Y/N) asks; concern in her eyes.

Draco nods, “I’ll stay with him through this. Matthew will need me to help pronounce.”

(Y/N) nods, “I’ll stay with you too.”

He reaches for her hand, “Thank you.”

She squeezes once, shrugging, “One thing’s for certain, you’re not a boring date, Draco.”

“It’s about to get even more wild,” Draco drawls.

“Oh? How’s that?”

Draco points to the pile of unfinished paperwork near his locker, “We have all that to work through.”

(Y/N) fans herself, “Slow down, Romeo. Paperwork is a second date kind of thing isn’t it?”

Draco laughs loudly, “So you see a second date?”

(Y/N) beams at him; pulling a pen from her bag, “I see a second date.”

\------

Two hours later, Matthew interrupts their squabble about news anchor’s to say that the young Auror’s oxygen levels have dropped. Draco stands; knowing it won’t be long now.

It isn’t. Less than ten minutes after entering the room, Draco helps Matthew pronounce the young Auror; explaining the death kit and how the nurses do it.

(Y/N) looks up when Draco re-enters the break room; the question written over her face. Draco nods; silently confirming her suspicions.

They apparate back to his place; neither of them hungry after such an extensive trauma. (Y/N) throws herself on the couch; groaning at the softness, “You know, this is the comfiest couch I have ever sat on.”

Draco laughs; picking up her legs and settling them over his as he sits down next to her, “Are you just saying that because you wore heels all night?”

(Y/N) frowns down at her bare feet; having kicked off the offending footwear the moment she landed in Draco’s flat, “That could be part of it.”

“I knew it!” Draco declares with a broad smile, “You only agreed to the date so you could lay on my couch more.”

(Y/N) stretches her limbs out, “Can you blame me? This couch is a gift from Merlin himself.”

Silence falls between the two of them; it’s not awkward – far from it. It’s the kind of silence where they both know they’re thinking over the night’s events and remembering the young Auror who passed less than two hour ago.

“You didn’t have to do that earlier, you know,” Draco whispers.

(Y/N) sits up the couch; swinging her legs around. She cuddles up to Draco, “Yeah, I did. I saw your face in there, I had to do something.”

Draco shakes his head, “It wasn’t the first time; it won’t be the last either.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t the first time?”

“I mean that it wasn’t the first time a patient has refused to be treated by me,” He sighs; heart heavy as he thinks of the early days of his career when the mark on his arm was as dark as the day it had been seared into his skin, “There are still those who have not forgiven my family for their involvement in both wizarding wars.”

(Y/N) frowns; staring up at him, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Draco shrugs, “Truthfully, it hadn’t happened in a while. Auror Flintlock was the first patient in almost a year to refuse my treatment.”

“You still should have told me.”

“I know,” He admits, “Will you forgive me?”

She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “I don’t know,” She starts, “What’s in it for me?”

Draco chuckles; leaning in to her, “What would you like?”

(Y/N) takes it upon herself to connect their lips. She brushes her lips against Draco’s softly; to gauge his reaction. Draco gasps gently as the touch; unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. She pulls away; a hairsbreadth away from him, but he surges forward, reconnecting their lips in a kiss that screams pent up emotion and long-lasting love.

She lets him take control of the kiss; surrendering herself to his mouth and wandering hands as he presses her further into the couch.

They’re a mess of hands, lips, and tongue. Her hands work on the white button down he wears; unfastening the buttons and pushing it from his shoulders before running her hands down the flat expanse of his stomach.

Draco shudders at her touch; briefly wondering if whether this is what it feels like to internally combust. He’s dreamt of this for long so; sometimes waking up in the middle of the night with the taste of her in his mouth and desire lighting up his veins.

Her hands continue wander as he slows down the kiss; slowing their pace so they move together languidly. He doesn’t want to rush a thing; he wants to feel every inch of her set him on fire.

Breaking the kiss, Draco pulls her from the couch. She throws him a puzzled look as he leads her into his bedroom. Draco gives her a questioning look; searching her eyes for permission, making sure she hasn’t changed her mind since the couch. With a small smile, (Y/N) tugs Draco towards her by grabbing his belt.

He connects their lips once more, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The epilogue is next!!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated; it is such a motivator so please if you enjoyed, leave a comment and a kudos.
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set two years after the events of chapter five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> WARNINGS: time skip and all the fluff
> 
> Feedback is so so important as a writer; please leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.

**2 years later:**

Time passes quickly in the halls of St. Mungo’s - patients were seen, prescriptions written, budgets ignored. The hospital never closed; constantly working on a rotating door of shifts and patients.

It was in these halls that he met her. An anxious, young wizard straight out of Hogwarts barely able to keep his hands from shaking had walked into the emergency room and promptly bumped into the person that would become a central figure to his life.

Draco remembers it all like it was yesterday; how he came home after his first shift, collapsing into bed with only two thoughts on his mind – his next shift and her name.

He wanders the halls of St Mungo’s in disbelief that it’s now been a decade since he started his training and met (Y/N). In ten years, he’s seen so much and accomplished things he never even dreamed of.

Draco chuckles to himself; he thinks of the shock he still gets when he explains to old friends and extended family his work. He finds it both insulting and flattering at the same time.

Two years have passed since Draco greeted the trainees on this very date. Each of them passed with flying colours; Matthew Kinghorn settling in as a permanent faculty member – practically a piece of the furniture now.

Every year, Draco greets new trainees to begin the same song and dance he’s conducted for the past five years. He recites the same speech because he knows it works; he lets them take control of the first patient they want to treat. He gives them an inch, but he knows they won’t take a mile.

In the halls of St Mungo’s, Draco transforms into the person he truly he is. He doesn’t bow to familial pressure; he doesn’t cower to the misconceptions of others. In the halls of St. Mungo’s, Draco showcases his true ability for healing and his care for others. He comes alive as he works; thriving in the hustle and bustle – able to think more clearly than ever.

The break room never changes, he thinks, as he pushes open the door. The ancient television set will always play the daily cycle of muggle news; always on a low volume for the staff’s fears of breaking the thing should anyone change anything. Draco shakes his head fondly; he couldn’t and wouldn’t work anywhere else.

Draco cracks open his locker; peering at his reflection in the small mirror he keeps stuck to the inside of the door. He neatens his hair; today was to be a big day once again, and he needed to look his best – prim, proper, and professional.

He rubs at the stubble on his cheeks; absentmindedly wondering whether he should have shaved before coming in. The opening of the door to the break room has Draco pausing in his pondering. He closes his locker door quietly.

“Healer Malfoy,” She drawls, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, “I knew I’d find you here.”

He doesn’t need to turn to know it’s (Y/N); the woman he’s loved for years now. Each day he finds something new to love about her; whether it be the way she eats her chips before her burger, or the way she places a bookmark every one hundred pages of the book she reads to split it into more manageable chunks. He loves it all; her loves her all – he entirely and irrevocably adores her.

Draco turns to meet her eyes; bright with mischief and love, “You’ve found me, Healer Malfoy,” He grins, “Shall we meet the new trainees together?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If you made it to the end, thank you so much!!
> 
> Feedback is so so important as a writer; please leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I would love feedback on this! Feedback has been really positive on Tumblr so I'm hoping it will do well on here too! So please leave a comment telling me what you think and a kudos if you think it's good enough!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


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